


Musha’s Midnight Snack

by Lavaknight368



Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26798500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavaknight368/pseuds/Lavaknight368
Summary: When a pleasant dream is disturbed by a hungry stomach, Musha goes looking for a midnight snack. But when he finds it, he gets more than he bargained for!
Relationships: Black/White (Pokemon Adventures)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Musha’s Midnight Snack

Musha was having the time of his life. He was floating peacefully through a paradise in the clouds. He passed pairs of Emolga soaring under the rainbow arches that decorated the shining blue sky; floating islands where Lillipups, Purrloins, and Pokémon of all shapes and sizes frolicked in sunlit meadows, filled with flowers of every color imaginable. Tympole sang to the sound of crystal clear streams of water bubbling over rocky riverbeds. Basking in the warm sun, Musha closed his eyes and drank it all in. He could never grow tired of the Dream World, the idyllic, perfect place where Pokémon went to dream. Nothing could ruin this, he thought, as he opened his eyes and - saw nothing. He blinked, his bleary eyes adjusting to the darkness, and realized that he was back in his Pokéball. For a moment, he was confused, wondering what possibly could have interrupted his stay in the blissful realm - until his stomach growled: he was hungry. He huffed, disappointed. Of all the times for his stomach to get the best of him... well, there was only one thing to do: find something to eat.

Reluctantly, Musha left the comfort of the small capsule, anticipating but still somewhat startled by the indescribable sensation of turning from energy to matter. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dark. Shivering as the air met his skin, he heard the faint clamor of the city outside, a constant low hum of energy carried by the shafts of moonlight that filtered through the blinds of the bedroom window, illuminating the room with a bluish-silver glow. He was floating a few feet off the floor, and his Pokéball was still on the nightstand, right where it had been left, along with those of his friends: Brav, Bo, Tula, and Costa, who, he noticed with a twinge of envy, were all still asleep. He turned towards the far side of the room, where Black left bowls of food out for his Pokémon in case they got hungry during the night. Musha silently thanked his trainer for his compassion and foresight. But as he started to drift to the far side of the room, he stopped in his tracks(or, floats) and whirled around. He sensed something, a familiar feeling that made him tingle with excitement. Black was having a dream! The very thought caused his mouth to water. Berries and Pokéfood were well and good, but a good dream was something special. Not even a Casteliacone could come close to that ambrosia which managed to hit every taste bud in just the right way. No, the sweet taste of a dream made being woken up more than worth it.

He rushed over to the bed, much more awake than he was a few moments before. Black was asleep with his mate(though Black called her his “girlfriend”, which he gathered to mean the same thing), the human girl called White. White was lying at Black’s right side, curled up under the blanket, while Black was spread-eagled over half the bed, his right arm sprawled above White’s head while his left limbs hung over the edge, with only his right leg covered by the blanket. Confused as he was about his trainer’s odd sleeping habits, he disregarded it, too hungry to care for the moment. He was a foot or two above Black’s head now, and, practically drooling, he began to descend slowly. He yearned to dig in, but was careful not to rouse his trainer, if for no other reason than to not spoil the meal. But as Musha drew closer, his mouth wide open, ready to clamp down and feast, he hesitated. A faint sense of unease coiled inside him, a half-formed thought that something seemed wrong beginning to push its way to the front of his brain. Black’s face was beaded with sweat, and he was muttering something incoherent as his head twitched back and forth. He continued his descent, slower this time. Barely inches away now, he took an exploratory sniff, wanting a hint of what to expect. The odor hit his nostrils, and the faint coil tightened like an iron vise, sending shockwaves coursing through his body. He recoiled sharply from the “dream” that emanated from his trainer. It reeked, smelling like rotten eggs and spoiled milk. Black was having a nightmare. 

Bile rose in his throat. For a brief moment, he hesitated. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his Pokéball and hide from the putrid odor. But he couldn’t let his trainer suffer like this, and he was the only one who could do anything to help. Holding his breath, he began frantically nudging Black, desperately trying to get him to wake up. He soon realized that his efforts were futile, and backed off, exhaling. Once a nightmare took hold of someone, the only option was to let it run its course. Or, in Musha’s case, to eat it whole. 

He closed his eyes and steeled himself. When he opened them, he could see Dream Mist pouring from Black’s mouth and nostrils as his breath grew shallow. Unlike the pleasant pink-purple of a normal dream, however, the gas that emanated from his trainer’s mind was the color of sewage. Musha gulped, and moved closer yet again, until he was just within reach. His eyes watered as he took a tentative nibble of the foul-smelling vapor, and his empty stomach churned with horror. It tasted just as bad as it smelled, like garbage left sitting in the street on a hot summer day. It grasped him with white-hot talons and dragged him away as terrible visions shot through his head. A blast of scorching fire, a lurch of dread, a girl’s voice crying his name as a hand reached out, before everything was enveloped in a painful blinding light. Musha instinctively shut his eyes, waiting for the glow to fade, before slowly opening them once more. He gasped. He was in the Dream World again, but... now it was twisted, cruel, not at all like the heaven he was so familiar with. The harsh sun beat down on a world of withered plants, the sapphire sky banished by a pale grey fog. A silhouette appeared in the distance, cackling and growing larger, and everything was swallowed up by an impenetrable darkness. He was buffeted by a tide of countless emotions: anger, frustration and rage; longing, guilt and dejection. And as they washed over him, he sank into a new feeling, one that was a thousand times more painful than anything he had felt up until then: complete and utter despair.

The small taste of the nightmare finally released him, and he floated there, shuddering with his mouth agape. He was horrified beyond words, almost beyond any thought at all. His previous urge to flee had returned with a vengeance, the logical part of him screaming to get away from the poison that tormented his trainer. And yet, he knew that running wasn’t an option. If he ran, even though Black would probably never find out, Musha would never be able to look his trainer in the eye again. So he did his best to quell his rising nausea, and got ready to do his duty. But as he gulped, preparing to bite the Bullet Seed, he sensed something. The dream had changed somehow. He opened his eyes. White had shifted so that her arm was draped across Black and her head was nestled on his chest. In response, Black had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Though still asleep, they wore matching smiles as they locked into a tight embrace. 

Musha took another look at Black, and saw that the mist he expelled was back to the regular pink-purple of a good dream, and carried with it an intoxicatingly sweet scent. However, he decided to test it again, just to be sure. When he did, he was shocked yet again, but not because the dream tasted bad. Quite the opposite in fact. The flavor that lanced his taste buds was almost too cloying for even Musha to bear. This time, he could see that Black’s dreamt of happy memories: Black’s heart soaring when he found White in Team Plasma’s Castle, and his anxiety melting away as her arms wrapped around him when they were reunited in the Dream World years later. The pride and joy that Black had felt in his chest and saw on White’s face when he fulfilled his promise at the Pokémon League, and the exhilaration of achieving his dream and becoming Champion, a feeling unmatched until moments later when he saw her elated expression. The way his heart had felt like it was about to burst during the weeks he struggled to find the courage to tell her how he felt about her, and the euphoria he felt when he confessed his feelings and discovered that she felt the same way. Their first kiss, their first date, the first time they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, and a thousand other events in their relationship that to an outsider might seem silly or insignificant, but which they both cherished with all their hearts. And connecting it all, a sturdy thread of hope, and joy, and love. 

Musha grinned broadly. Now this was a meal he could enjoy, he thought, as his jaw widened, ready to envelop his target. And with one swift motion, he began to feast.

———

Golden shafts of sunlight filtered through the blinds of the window, and Black blearily opened his eyes, yawning. His head felt fuzzy, though in a strangely pleasant way, and as he took a moment to clear it he felt something tickling his chin. He looked down and was met with a faceful of hair. He leaned back and tilted his head, and felt his heart heat up. White was sprawled on top of him at an angle, her scalp lying squarely at the base of his neck. He smiled and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend, squeezing slightly. He loved it when mornings started off like this; his girlfriend in his arms and not a care in the world.

He flinched as the alarm clock on the side table blared like a klaxon. He glared at the flashing red numbers as if that could make them change. He could do without waking up before the alarm clock. Grumbling, he reached out and smacked the snooze button. He retrieved his hand and placed it on his partner’s shoulder, gently shaking her.

“White...” he said gently. “White... we need to get up.” White moaned and buried her head deeper into his chest.

“Mmphmp... five more... more minutes...”

He chuckled, brushing her hair back and craning his neck to lay a gentle kiss on her forehead. He laid his head back down, perfectly content with the current situation. 

Closing his eyes, he busied himself by enjoying the sensation of White lying against him, feeling the warmth exchanged by their bodies as they pressed together. As he did so, he tried to unravel the mystery of the pleasant humming in his head. Even for a day that started off as well as this one, a mood this good this early in the morning was unusual. He was betting that it was caused by a dream, but if it was then he couldn’t remember it, try as he might. The harder he tried to recall the details, the more they slipped just out of reach, like clenching down on a fistful of sand. He glanced at his nightstand, a hunch forming around a certain Musharna. Eventually, he decided it didn’t matter and gave up. He instead settled for loosely wrapping and unwrapping a strand of White’s hair around his finger as he took in her beauty, and silently gave thanks to whatever it was that had brought them together. Even after a year, he still could barely believe his luck. 

Five minutes soon ticked by, however, and it really was time to get up, the pair reluctantly peeling themselves apart. White inched her way to the edge of the bed as she put her hair up in a loose ponytail, while Black, humming some tune he couldn’t remember the name to, made his way to the dresser, pulling out a fresh pair of pants. After a moment, White appeared at his side, digging through her side for a change of clothes to replace her pajamas. He felt his heart skip a beat as her shoulder brushed against his. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, glancing at him with a smile as he carried on his melody.

“What’s got you so happy today?” 

He shrugged.

“I had a good dream last night.”

“Really? What was it about?”

“I can’t remember.”

“You can’t remember? Then how do you know it was good?”

He shrugged again and smiled back.

“I don’t know for certain, but it made me happy.”

White’s smile widened slightly, before she placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled herself up a bit to plant a kiss on his cheek. 

“Well, I guess that’s all that matters then.”

As she started to pull back, he decided that he didn’t want to waste the moment. Spurred on by his buoyant mood, he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, her gasp of surprise cut short by his lips coming down on hers. She tensed for half a second, before relaxing and kissing back, throwing her arms around his neck as his hands met each other behind her back and held her to him. After a minute or an hour, he couldn’t tell, they broke off to catch their breath. As he pulled back, he saw that her face had gone completely red. He smirked with satisfaction that for once _he_ had flustered _her_ and not the other way around.

“W-What was that for?” she stammered.

He placed his forehead against hers, taking one of his hands off her back to hold her face.

“Now that I think about it, my dream might have been about you,” he said. “Because you make me happy.” 

Her face turned an even deeper red, and her mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Then his brain took the moment to finally catch up with his mouth. He blushed and shifted his eyes to a spot on the dresser that suddenly seemed very interesting.

“That was... pretty cheesy, wasn’t it?”

White blinked. Then she chuckled, a warm sound that made his heart melt. He felt her hand mirror his and hold his face, turning it so he was looking her in the eye. 

“Yes, it was...” she agreed, trailing off as she pressed her lips to his. Now it was his turn to be surprised before he returned the gesture. A small twinge of disappointment shot through him when she eventually pulled away, leaving him panting. She smiled softly and caressed his cheek.

“It doesn’t matter, though. It made me happy,” she said.

Black stared at her for a moment, then broke into a grin. This time, they came together at the same time. Once more their lips met, and they held each other in a tight embrace. The apartment could have been burning down around them, and he wouldn’t have noticed or cared. All that mattered was White. 

They reluctantly broke off their kiss once more, breathless, though they remained wrapped in each other’s arms. White laid her head against his shoulder.

“We need to start getting ready,” she stated.

“Yes, we do,” he agreed.

Neither of them moved. Time seemed to stretch as they stood there, still, neither wanting to be the first to pull away. Finally, White sighed, and slowly disentangled herself from the embrace. She stretched in the air, and leaned down to pick up the clothes that she had dropped on the floor earlier.

“Alright,” she said. “I’m going to take a shower. Is it my turn to make breakfast?”

“No, it’s mine,” he replied, as he knelt down to grab his own discarded attire.

She made a face, sticking her tongue out. “Well then,” she teased. “I hope I don’t get food poisoning.”

“I’m getting better, you know,” he playfully shot back with a smile.

The room filled with chatter as the two prepared to start the day. Unbeknownst to the pair however, immersed as they were with each other, a certain pink and purple Pokémon remained soundly asleep in his Pokéball, his stomach full of a delicious midnight snack.

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first PokéSpe fan fiction, so please don’t hold back on criticism! I’d like to improve as a writer, and to do that, I need to know what I’m doing wrong so I can fix it! I hope you enjoyed!


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